


Fifty Shades of Ectoplasm

by rowanix



Series: Fifty Shades of Ectoplasm [1]
Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Crack, Humor, I'm not sorry, ngl this is just a bunch of dick jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 05:16:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13427568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowanix/pseuds/rowanix
Summary: Not all of Lockwood & Co.'s cases are heroic tales of daring nerve against ghastly Visitors. Sometimes they're a little more awkward than that...This is what happens when a discord conversation about ye olde ghosts and codpieces turns into 'surely people died whilst doing the hanky-panky'.You're welcome.





	Fifty Shades of Ectoplasm

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry and not entirely to blame. Just throwing that out there.

“Why does she keep pointing at the ceiling?” Quill questioned.

“ _…so small…_ ”

I coughed. “She’s, uhh, not pointing.”

Over in the corner, Lockwood was acting very interested in a vase, until he realised just how phallic it was and started inspecting the carpet instead. Holly was shuffling her feet awkwardly, George was re-inspecting his research notes, the Skull’s ghost stood hunched over beside me, wheezing in mirth despite the fact that he couldn’t actually breath.

“What’s she doing then?” said Quill, the only one, besides George, who didn’t seem at all phased by the very attractive and very naked ghost standing before us. Why we ever questioned his sexuality, I have no idea.

“ _It was_ so _small…_ ”

I flushed redder than I previously thought possible. Why did _I_ have to be the Listener? Why couldn’t I just research things with George? _He_ never had to relay what a ghost was saying to the rest of the team.

“She’s… uhh… she’s showing us the _size._ ”

Quill frowned. “The size of w- Oh. OH!”

“Yep.”

“I’ve got it!” George cried. “So, Dick Reynold’s, who as we know previously owned this mansion before he died, was rather inclined to, uhh, _younger_ ladies. This must be one of his–” He coughed. “ _Escorts_.”

Quill stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter.

“Oh, don’t you start!” I scolded. “Can you lot _please_ take this seriously! We need to find her Source.”

“ _I’m not sure I want to know what her Source_ is,” said Skull. I swiped at him with my rapier. “ _Ow!_ _Rude!_ ”

“You could help!”

“ _I don’t think I want to now_ ,” he said, making a show of rubbing his arm where I’d swiped at him. “ _Though I will tell you you’ve also got Mr Reynolds to worry about downstairs_.”

“Uh huh,” I said. “What was Mr Reynolds cause of death again, George?”

He flicked through his notes. “Auto-erotic asphyxiation.”

Skull started cackling again. I chose to ignore him. “Anything about a woman who died here?”

“ _My guess is she died laughing about how small the guy’s dick is_ ,” said Skull through giggles.

“Don’t make me stab you again,” I said, though, if the woman was being accurate in her measurement, it _was_ really small.

“Look, guys,” said Lockwood, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but the ghost. “I know these are only Type 1s, but Mr Reynolds’ daughter wants them out as soon as possible so her kids don’t see them again, so let's just get this over with as quickly as possible, okay? Look for anything that could be a Source.”

“That might be tricky,” said Holly. “She wasn’t exactly wearing anything when she died.”

“ _Not_ visibly,” said Skull. I only just managed to stop myself from punching him. I wondered if I’d be able to make some sort of silver glove when I got home.

“Just look through the drawers, I’ll keep her at bay,” I told the others.

They went about shuffling through drawers or at least peeking into them.

“There are a lot of… possibilities,” said Holly. “And I’d rather not touch any of them.”

“Does Skull have any insights?” said Lockwood.

I eyed the ghost-boy in question, keeping my rapier trained on the naked woman who just wouldn’t _shut up_ about how small it was. “Any ideas?”

“ _I have an inkling_ ,” he replied.

“Helpful,” I said. I turned to the others. “I’m pretty sure it's not one of those… toys. He just wants you to keep thinking it is.”

“ _Aw, don’t spoil the fun!_ ” Skull whined.

I ignored him, scanning the massive and elaborately decorated master bedroom while still keeping my rapier raised.

“Hey,” I said, “take a closer look at that bookshelf.”

George wandered over and scanned the books. “Ah,” he said. “Think I’ve found it.”

The ghost suddenly surged up and wind whirled, knocking a few vases to the ground and shattering them, though I don’t think their loss was anything to be sad about. I sliced her through with my rapier as George shoved a book into a silver net bag.

“What is it?” I said, attaching my rapier to my belt now the ghost was gone.

“Fifty Shades of Grey,” said George. Lockwood started choking on air.

“Listen,” Holly pleaded. “Can we please go and take care of Mr Reynolds, so I can go home and take a very hot shower because I feel gross just being here.”

We headed downstairs and Skull pointed us to a room filled with numerous glass cases displaying…

“What. The fuck. Are they?”

“Codpieces,” said George, removing his glasses to clean them on his jumper. “They were very popular in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries to accentuate certain… areas. Mr Reynolds was quite the collector.”

Mr Reynolds himself was curled up in a corner, his ghost frail and flickering as he rocked back and forth pitifully. I avoided looking at him too much, as he also wasn’t wearing any clothes. At least the ghost upstairs had been young and pretty.

“ _It’s not_ that _small_ …”

“Is he saying anything, Luce?” said Lockwood.

“Nope!” I said. “Not a word! Now let’s find this Source.”

“I don’t think this one’ll be too hard,” said George, gesturing to the only piece not in a glass case, instead displayed on a velvet pillow as if it was still used on occasion.

“Are you sure?” I said. “It’s very… big.”

“Actually,” said Holly, rounding to the other side, “there’s an awful lot of padding.”

Over in the corner, Mr Reynolds cried quietly to himself. “ _Not that small_ …”

“Stop lying to yourself,” I told him, and I tossed a silver net over the Source.


End file.
